Bathed in Scarlet
by stripedshortie
Summary: (WARNING: SELF HARM) Loki has suffered long, and now lives on Midgard. He has fallen quite far from the status of controlling an army of Chitauri. So much, that the Avengers find him bleeding out in an apartment bathroom, from where revelations are made about the graceless prince, and the so called 'advanced' Asgardians. (Post-TWS)
1. Lost

At this point, it was habit.

The cutting.

The slicing of his own skin, crying softly at his sorrows and he relieving them with a blade. Some days it was more out of a unrelenting crave for blood he needed. Yes, as much as Loki devilishly enjoyed the pain of others, it was his he relished in most of all.

A million times over he had wished the All-Father Odin had left him on that frozen rock of a planet to die, as a newborn infant, than to live through this Hel that tore at his flesh. The Norns were cruel in that way. So, terribly cruel, that for events to succeed each other, the God of Mischief was meant to lose his heart, for him to suffer through each passing day, wanting to become completely numb and to rejoin with his daughter.

Which he would've, had his suicide attempt on the Bifrost succeeded, instead of placing him in the hands of Thanos, who in turn, gave him to the Chitauri.

The attack on Manhattan was a short reprieve, one that Loki-although persuaded, and mind bent to concede with this-delighted in.

Though for months afterward, he had woken up from many a nightmare to scream, and weep at the many lives taken, to know how awful he really was.

Loki did revel in the misery of others, but there was a very quiet conscience that cried out whenever it saw that the god had hurt yet another soul, and grabbed his heart to gather his attention. He would notice, but pushed back his acknowledgement, wanting to make himself believe this was only fate coming to hurt him again.

Right now, he sits in an apartment bathroom leaning against the tub. Hateful crimson and pale lines make their way up his forearms, new and faded, the ones made tonight currently shallow. The trickster worries he will not be able to hold back, and would nearly be unconscious again. He was on Midgard, where he had been sent off, after the stress of impersonating Odin had finally taken it's toll, and he had come clean to Thor.

The look of anguish and worse, pity, and loss of his brother on the Thunderer's face sent shocks of pain into Loki's heart every time. Thor had believed his brother dead twice over, now to be revealed in the most awful way.

"What use is my existence?" the figure with raven hair whispers to himself, as his voice is now hoarse. "Odin's purpose for me is gone now. I have no purpose but to cause pain with murder and lies." Loki's voice shakes, tears going against his wishes and down his cheeks.

He is still scared of the blade. Loki has to force himself to make those lines crossed along his wrist.

Other ways are easier. Burning is quick, but it reminds him too much of the Chitauri. The ones who had convinced him to kill those of Earth, who promised him freedom from their torture if he was triumphant.

He is afraid of fire. How far has the god of flames fallen?

The shame causes him to bring the knife across his skin. A cry pushes it's way past his lips, and he berates himself; the neighbours will hear.

It was deeper, Loki makes a note to take it easier, but knows that he won't.

He deserves this.

This knife had been gifted to him by his brother when they were young, and he laughs bitterly when he thinks of his naive self. How happy he had been when Thor brought it from one of the other countries on Asgard. For days afterward, he had admired it's ornate blade, the handle curving to fit his hand, a dark green ore making up the hilt. Runes went up it's sides, some spells forbidding it to hurt the owner, only the enemy.

Those runes were scratched out.

How disgusting it was; that a relic from his past was used for this purpose. Only another reason he didn't deserve any kindness, he would merely warp it into something awful.

His hands shake as he moves the steel nearer to the crook of his elbow. The skin is beckoning him, but his eyes hold fear. His bare chest pales in the fluorescent light. Loki grits his teeth. Why was he always so damn afraid? As stupid as Thor once was, flinging himself into battle, he was never truly afraid. A trait Loki had always hoped to gain, to show Odin that he was worthy of being king.

It was a fact he had startlingly accepted in his time masquerading as Odin. Thor was changed. No longer the warmongering brute he had followed into Jotunheim, the prince of Asgard had humbled. Spite fills Loki's chest. After all his time trying to tame Thor, one short banishment to Earth made the golden son become reasoning. That damn woman had done in a few days what Loki had been hopelessly tiring at for centuries.

That was a lie. Loki loved mischief, and toying with Thor was paradise. It didn't mean he hadn't tried. Thor had so much potential in his mind, he wanted to show him it was useful. Thor didn't listen, kept his intelligence under wraps of bloodstained battles.

Loki kept his bloodstained skin under long sleeves.

If he could even bring _the damn knife to his skin, the stupid wretch. _

He was sick of his cowardice.

A trickster brought a blade to his forearm.

Swift movement causes him to cry out, it was too deep, _shit, i'm going to pass out._

The world tilts and comes closer to him in black and bright.

As he tries to hold on, the world dims.


	2. Found

**_Marvel and it's characters do not belong to me. I make no profits from this fanfiction._**

* * *

><p>"Director! We've got a reading on Loki." One of the tech workers on the bridge of the Heiicarrier calls to Nick Fury.<p>

The director advances over, his one eye analyzing the screen. "It looks like a pretty strong one too. Can we get a location?"

"With this high of a reading, yes. Agent Daviau, start pinpointing the source."

"Already on it." The woman next to the first agent begins typing commands into the computer, pulling up a map as all the possible locations are calibrated. A point on the map starts pulsing.

"An apartment?" Though he doesn't show it, Fury was perplexed.

Daviau speaks again. "Yes, director. Odd that he would still be in New York…"

Director Fury walks to the middle of the bridge. "Have Agent Hill contact the Avengers. Tell them that they will be briefed on arrival."

* * *

><p>Loki was trying his hardest to stem the flow of blood, but his semi-conscious state was not helping. Already, he had slipped under twice, the blow to his head thickening the flow of thoughts. It was taking his entire capacity of seidr to keep him alive.<p>

* * *

><p>"You're kidding me."<p>

"No, Barton. We found him, his magic was being used at a very strong rate."

"I don't doubt that, I just don't understand why _we_ have to go after him. Can't some S.H.I.E.L.D agents get him?"

Agent Hill sighs. "We understand that you are still recovering, but you are the only team that has been able to bring him down."

Clint scoffs. "That was the Hulk."

"In any case, we are sending you all in."

Tony groans from a chair in the back of the room. Natasha strides up to Clint from her spot leaning on the wall and places a hand on his shoulder.

She turns her head to Maria. "We'll go. Though, where is Thor and Dr. Banner?"

"Thor is still on Asgard, and Dr. Banner is at Stark Tower. It doesn't matter, you all have to go bring him into custody. Captain Rogers?"

Steve inclines his head toward her. "We'll be back within two hours."

"Fucking hell, I was just about to go to sleep before you assholes called me in."

Hill rolls her eyes."Stark, you were drinking."

"Damn it. I have to find a way to disable that security system."

* * *

><p>Loki was truly afraid now. There was no possible way he was going to stay alive.<p>

* * *

><p>As the Helicarrier nears the complex where Loki was staying, Tony comes in over the intercom from his suit.<p>

"So the high-and-mighty god, that grabbed me by the throat and threw me out my own window, is living in a shitty apartment?"

"Quiet Tony." Steve is short with him. He has a sinking feeling he associates with Loki being an enormous threat.

Natasha holds a pistol in her right hand and the device displaying the readings in her left.

"Loki should be two floors down from the roof, two doors to the left."

Clint stands beside her, readying his weapon. "Got it."

"You're right beside me Clint, I'd expect you to hear."

Mumbling, Barton busies himself with double-checking his arrows.

"I'm on the roof, I'll just wait for you guys whenever you feel like finishing up." Stark sounds bored out of his mind.

"Be there in fifteen seconds." Steve prepares himself to jump from the lowering ramp of the aircraft.

He lands on the roof with ease.

Tony laughs. "Show off."

"Come on, be serious about this."

Natasha and the archer drop down with parachutes, Romanoff gracefully landing and Clint almost falling over.

"What the hell?" Tony asks Barton.

"I don't have a suit like you Tony, it's dark as fuck."

Steve has to push down the laugh that almost surfaces. "Alright, let's head in."

They make their way through the access stairway to the top floor.

"You said two floors down right?"

"Clint, you were right beside me, and clarified that you heard. But yeah, two floors down."

"I wanted to make su-"

Steve hushes them. "Guys, there are other people here, I'd guess most of them don't want to be woken up to find out that Loki, the person responsible for destruction of half of the city, is living a floor below."

"Stark is wearing an entire suit of armor. That would wake up the entire building."

Natasha flashes a warning glare at him.

"Ugh. Fine."

The team makes their way to the elevator, which looks broken and menacing.

Tony looks at the door with a warying glance. "Should we just take the stairs?" Upon remembering how well the suit works on stairs, he changes his mind. "Okay, we're gonna take our chances with the elevator."

Barton presses the button.

Nothing happens.

"Cap, why don't you open it? See if there's actually anything there." Clint steps back from the rusted metal doors to let Rogers through.

He pries them open, to find-

"It's empty." Tony makes plain.

"Obviously." Natasha says blankly.

"We're going to have to take the stairs. Tony, is that the briefcase version of your suit?"

There's a moment of silence, before Tony whispers, "Jesus Christ."

* * *

><p>A god lays unconscious in a fluorescently lit bathroom.<p>

* * *

><p>"Once, we get in there, we have to be quiet as we search the place." Steve says, barely audibly.<p>

The rest of them nod.

Breaking the locked door knob, they file inside, already on the defensive. Steve motions for Natasha to check on the right, where two doors sit.

Clint monitors the living room, which is part of the kitchen.

Tony, suited up again, checks the small kitchen.

Cap walks over to the right side with Romanoff, who enters what must be the bedroom, Steve noticing the light under the second door.

Bracing himself, he opens the door swiftly.

He couldn't have braced for this.

The light blinds him, sparing him from the sight he is about to witness.

It doesn't even register at the first few moments.

What lies before him can't be real.

Loki lies in a small pool of scarlet, his arms lined with bitter lines.

He is too pale.

"No… Natasha!" Steve leans against the door frame, feeling lightheaded.

She rushes to his side, stilling when she sees the figure on the ground.

Romanoff brings a hand to her ear, speaking into her earpiece.

"Get a med-team down here."

* * *

><p>What was present of the Avengers sat on the small couch in the apartment, each trying to regain their thoughts.<p>

Steve can't make sense of any of it.

Natasha struggles to keep calm.

Clint feels conflicted emotions.

Tony is sick.

The medical team had gotten the room very quickly, on account of thinking one of them was hurt. They were dismayed to find that they would have to keep a homicidal villain alive.

Rogers can't get the sight of the god out of his head. It wasn't just the fact that Loki was slowly dying, but the disturbing detail that-

He looked _peaceful._

It's an awful thought, he knows, but Loki always appeared angry and seething, seeing him in such an unguarded state was off-putting. With no strain on his face, he seemed completely different.

Natasha keeps herself composed by keeping an eye on the medics. No doubt some people at S.H.I.E.L.D would love exact revenge on Loki.

She tries to match this sight of him with the one of being threatened, belitted if the mischief god had gotten his way. The pieces don't fit. Loki had been so narcissistic that it was sickeningly unhealthy.

Clint flickers between emotions, without understanding where they come from.

Hate. Shouldn't he hate Loki?

Becoming more surly with each passing second, he realizes he feels _sorry _for him. It makes him angry, because this is the guy who toyed with his mind and caused him to kill people.

People he knew.

If Natasha hadn't been so skilled, he might've killed her too.

"I have to go. This is pissing me off."

No one objects as he quickly leaves the room.

Tony wants to curl up in a little ball and drink. Every time he sees someone in a state like that, a country an ocean away comes into memory, of a man named Yinsen. Sitting in a vehicle about to be decorated with bullets, dead soldiers protecting him. Because he had created a weapon capable of immense death, he caused innocent people to die.

Though Loki must have been through a different brand of hell to do _that_.

* * *

><p>Loki's vision dips in ink and out again.<p>

Where was he again?

Shapes move around him, and he tries desperately to hear the yelling through thick walls that he should be _trying to get away, _but he feels so drained.

Is he in the healing rooms at the castle? He can't be, because he can't sense the seidr flowing through him. Loki was in those rooms so often when he was younger...

The truth hits him with a rebound.

They found him.

He wasn't supposed to use his magic during his punishment, if he did so, S.H.I.E.L.D had been given permission to bring him into their custody. Panic courses through his veins like lighting, as he strains to do _anything. _It worsens when he realizes they are all around him, definitely ready to restrain him if he gives them any trouble.

"His heart rate is going up quickly."

"Sedate him, I can't even figure out his damn anatomy. We'll have to bring him back."

Helpless, he feels so tired after a prick in his right forearm enters the skin. No fighting back this time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thank you for the follows, favorites and reviews ^^ <strong>_


	3. Caught

**_Oh my dear god. Thank you guys for the reviews, favorites and follows. You have no idea what that means to me. Anyways, I felt nice enough to write another chapter before I take my finals *cries* I'll probably take a couple days off from writing now, but after Dec. 20th, I'll be back on track._**

**_I don't own Marvel or any of it's characters, I don't make any profit from this fanfiction._**

* * *

><p>The world seems a lot heavier than it should be, as Loki's mind begins to rouse its thoughts.<p>

He has no energy whatsoever.

Loki wakes to warm lighting and the sharp, piercing scent of antiseptic.

Where he lies is a cot of some sort, and he takes notice of a periodic beeping.

_How annoying._

Though, his gut constricts at the sight of a thin tube protruding from his right arm, where it leaks something from a machine into his blood, adding to the marks along his forearm.

At his wrists his is restrained to the cot.

He screws his eyes shut in shame. Weakness on his own was one thing to succumb to, but to show it to these mortals?

_Pathetic._

For the time being, he worries about his situation. What in the name of the Norns are they putting in him?

His thoughts wander through the worst of possibilities, stopping by chances of poison and paralyzation. It distracts him from chastising himself, since he was so _careful, _for so long. Months had passed since his-'_temporary' probation-_was declared by the All-Father. He would rather have his magic restrained, for he was _able_ to use it, but not _allowed _to. The best option was to lay low.

Not that he had a choice. Showing his face anywhere in New York meant a death sentence, and finding a place to live in the shady complex was hard enough.

Due to Loki giving in to his-_selfish_-wants, his natural seidr tried to save him, and in his impaired state, he had forgotten the terms of his exile and instinctively started recovering himself.

What he would give, for the liquid dripping itself into his veins, to be the end.

* * *

><p>"You're not seriously going to question him in his state, right?"<p>

Fury didn't turn around. "Once he is awake enough to start talking, damn right I'm getting info out of him."

"Sir, with all possible respect, that is completely ridiculous."

Unfazed, the director's voice resonates again, "You don't have the authority to question that."

"I know, Director Fury, but I can't help but state what I'm worried about. You know I've never spoken out of line unless I thought it was necessary. Please consider it." Daviau knows she is pushing it, but she was always so soft, and seeing someone in a state like that, even Loki, doesn't put her at ease.

"I'm sorry Daviau, but this is above your level of clearance."

"Alright sir. I'll get back to the bridge." With reluctance, she spins on her heel, and _clicks_ her way back to her assigned duties, while she makes sure not one hair of her bun is out of place.

She still thinks this is an awful idea.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Birdbrain, toss me more scotch?"<p>

"Fuck you."

Tony grunts. "You were drinking too."

"Exactly, I'm saving more for me."

"I _bought _that bottle."

"And you can buy another."

Natasha groans. "Stop arguing, you idiots. It's getting on my nerves."

"If your boyfriend wasn't such an asshole, I'd be able to drink until _my _nerves stop feeling."

Clint snatches the glass bottle from the cupboard, and jumps over the couch. "Sorry Stark, but that's my plan." He races out of the room, Tony too tired to chase after him.

"Jarv?"

"Yes sir?"

"Lock all doors Hawkeye runs his sorry ass to."

A moment passes before a small beep is heard, Jarvis speaking right after it. "All doors that Mr. Barton happens to come to, will lock."

Sitting up from the armchair she had claimed, Natasha grins.

Tony glares at her.

"What?"

"How can you smile after seeing..Loki?"

Though she keeps her smirk on her face, her eyes cloud over. "I've seen worse."

"Speak for yourself Red."

"If you're not going to do anything productive about the situation, then stop sulking over it."

"What the fuck am _I _supposed to do?"

"If you can't figure it out, then you can't think about it."

He squints at her, trying to see if she's joking.

"How?"

"You're a little smarter than even me, figure it out. You took down S.H.I.E.L.D's walls before. Do it again. Make sure they don't do anything to him."

Stark quickly glances around, as if he could see the cameras S.H.I.E.L.D set up. "Aren't you worried they'll…"

"Hear us?" She snickers. "I know better than that. I took down the audio and replaced it."

* * *

><p>Agent Daviau sits at her screen, monitoring all the incoming files on Loki. She still isn't convinced that Loki was faking, as her coworkers were deciding to believe.<p>

Yes, it's understandable.

Doesn't mean that it's true.

The information filters through at an incredibly fast pace, too much for even three people. Their supervisor assigned her team to sort the information that they have, some of it very unsettling, with all the details on his murders.

She has to give some of that work to Agent Cran, out of the sickness from looking at it.

* * *

><p>Tony gets to work on breaking down S.H.I.E.L.D's new security, which is easy enough. The real problem is to remain undetected. What he is doing can <em>possibly<em> get him arrested and put on Fury's flying circus. That never went well. So as soon as he finds a file to do with his favorite godly brat, he copies it and deletes all-well, some- traces that it ever existed in their database.

* * *

><p>"Oh hell."<p>

"What is it Alicia?"

Daviau sighs. "Someone got in. Loki's files are disappearing."

"I'm literally going to kill them. I have just spent an _hour_ sorting through that asshole's records."

"Don't, I like having you do my work."

"You're hilarious. Call in a yellow alert."

* * *

><p>Loki is trapped.<p>

Literally and figuratively.

Trapped within a nightmare, clawing at his brain, that doesn't know what to do. It just sends more venom, swimming in it, smothering him with it's darkness.

Frigga smiles at him, while telling him he is unwanted. How weak he is.

"Oh Loki. No one loves a Jotun." She touches his face with hands weathered from magic and battle. "I gave you the courtesy of faking love, and you _murdered _me."

He tries to scream, to plead with her to stop saying these _true _things, but he grasps at his throat, which is slit.

Frigga holds up his blade. Blue blood drips from it.

Suddenly, she isn't there, replaced by the real prince of Asgard.

Thor looks dejected.

"Why Loki?"

Loki tries to ask what he means, but his vocal cords have been severed, but that only angers his not-brother. His face darkly contorts.

"You wish not to speak to me? Then we will make sure you _can't."_

The muzzle is suddenly on him, and he hears laughter. He is in the council room, on his knees, tears streaming down his face, and he knows, he knows why. Finally Loki the Liar has shut his damn mouth. His lips are swollen, and he reaches up to touch the thick thread stitching them together. With horror, he sees his hands are blue, as Asgardian hands start ripping him apart, screaming to kill the son of Laufey.

Loki wakes up screaming, tears running down his face. The restraints hold him back from shooting up from the cot.

"I'm sorry, so sorry..."

He sobs for an increasingly long time, shuddering with remants of the dream. He would shake off the feeling if he could, spiders with needle legs crawling up his back.

He doesn't care anymore. The mortals have seen some of his weakest points, why the Hel not another?

When he has at least stopped crying, he notices a tray next to him, filled with food, though its purpose was obviously not to be eaten by him, as he was tied down.

Mundane, compared to Asgard's punishments.

Though he is afraid to speak, the dripping dagger stabbing his thoughts, he will not become a _complete _weakling before his captors. "I'm still waiting for _some _punishment. I'm actually comfortable here, I'd increase the torture methods."

Nothing.

Loki sighs, looking around the bleak room. The dream has thrown him off, so he resumes his sarcastic and egotistical self.

Norns, what a damn mess he's gotten himself into.


	4. Tap

_**Again, thank you all so much. Shoutout to westernfemme, your questions in your reviews help me a hell of a lot, make me consider things I hadn't even thought about.**_

_**I don't own Marvel or any of it's characters. I do not make any profit from this fanfiction.**_

* * *

><p>"Tony I swear to god-"<p>

"Can't talk right now Rogers, working on doing some illegal things."

"You're going to get all of us under even _stricter _watch."

"Then make..." he pauses for a second, checking he has his copy. "...sure I don't get caught."

Steve opens his mouth to ask him exactly _how _no one has killed him yet, but the painfully offhand telling of his time in Afghanistan taps him and tells him that _yeah, that's pretty insensitive and stupid to even think._

His mouth slowly pulls the words back in, as if it were backing away from a predator.

Instead, he sighs.

"Fine. What are you doing anyway?" He leans against the workshop table, after carefully inspecting for a spot that wasn't cluttered and greasy.

"Ummm..."

"I'll report you to Fury right now."

Tony makes a whiny noise.

"I _might_ be deleting S.H.I.E.L.D's records of Loki, and keeping them for blackmail."

Though he wants to object, Rogers looks off for a bit, thinking about how dark the scene was, Loki lying in a pool of his own blood, lines climbing up his arms, desperate to reach higher. His ink black hair settled around his head, a devil's halo. The hair became even darker with the crimson liquid. How the rageful god finally looked at peace, peace with releasing himself from his life.

He shudders.

"Why?"

"Well, I was talking to Nat, and she did that weird emotional detachment thing. Something about not bitching over a problem you weren't trying to solve."

"Makes sense. Wait..."

"Yes, I'm worried about they'll do to him for info. Fury works for the 'greater good' and all that jazz, but he doesn't mind enemy casualties, whether they are currently a threat or not."

Steve can't deny that.

"So, you'll only give the files back if they agree not to do anything to him?"

"Exactly. Sometimes I do have a heart. At least, according to Pep."

The blonde sits up from the worktable, brushing himself off. Walking towards the doors, the Captain smiles. Though Tony can't see it, he really does do good, he changed a lot from his old self, designing weapons of mass destruction. His first judge of his character was completely wrong.

"I'll make sure none of these guys catch you."

The doors silently close behind him, and he makes his way down the hall. Feeling as content as he can, considering the circumstances, he decides to change and make his way to the training gym.

Those plans are quickly erased, at the security breach alarms scratch the air.

* * *

><p>Loki had been devising ways to get out of the room, but his entire body feels like it's being pinned down.<p>

He just feels so _useless. _His wrists are not even able to twist. At the least they hide his failed flaws.

The room, he decided, is his punishment. There is one window, which is tightly shut and curtains clinging to each other. All of the walls are beige and bare, the floor staring back at him with tainted linoleum. He still is anxious of the machines around him, especially the one that keeps up it incessant beeping. It seems to keep time with his heart, speeding or slowing down at times, but for what reason, is beyond his knowledge.

Loki deliberately ignores whatever is letting itself into his blood.

His mind reels with the ridiculousness of all this. Why wouldn't they be beating information out of him by now? All of this waiting just makes his nerves coil around each other, ready to spring at any moment. He'd much rather knowing his _real_ punishment. Allowing him to rest was probably only one phase of his imminent trials. Let him think he is safe, cradle him softly into security, then bash it out of him, telling him how stupid he was for believing that was true.

The last bit was useless to them, he already knew he clung to affection too easily.

But betray him, and you will somehow disappear, blades somehow sinking their way into your back, poison caressing your throat, your hair falling in uneven and irritable strands beside your pillow.

He shakes his head. Sif hadn't betrayed him. Her hair was sheared off in a childish prank. Out of a moment of remorse, he had gotten her new hair, shining bright as the amber rays of the sun. For a few moments after it was put on her head, everyone in the council hall admired it in awe, as it glittered in the surrounding light, casting warm shadows over the room like candlelight. The room grew darker, and chagrin peppered the room. As her hair turned black as his own, his pride and apologeticness left his face, fear and confusion hugging his gut, as if they had missed him for the day he had able to ignore them.

The needle and thread…

He is brought out of the memory abruptly.

Blaring alarms begin to tear at his ears, yellow lights flashing underneath the door.

* * *

><p>As soon as he hears the first ringing of a breach, Steve curses to himself and runs back to Stark's workshop.<p>

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Damn it Tony, fix this."

"Fix what, Captain?" Nick Fury strides into the room, the yellow flashes accentuate the anger in his eye.

"Sir-"

"Save it. I just wanna know why the hell, Stark was stealing important files on someone who tried to either kill us or rule us."

"Alright, alright, easy there Cyclops." Tony steps forward, his hands up in a submissive gesture.

"Stark-"

"No, let me finish. It's rude to interrupt people." Crossing his arms, he waits for it to go silent, the blaring of the alarms ignored. "Good. Now, I only borrowed-"

"Stole."

"_Borrowed_ those documents on the little shit because you guys have a reputation of doing evil government stuff to prisoners."

"We were only going to interrogate him."

"Fury, we _all_ know what that actually means. Doing something like that to Loki would fucking tear him apart."

"Tear him apart? What the actual hell are you talking about?"

"So you don't believe the fucking reports that _I _had to fill out?"

"Sir, you assigned me to do that."

"Jarvis, you are not helping."

The director progressively fills the room with his discontent. "No."

Steve looks at him with wild confusion. "What?!"

Fury keeps his eyes on Stark. "With his behaviour in the past, I have no reason to believe that he would something that stu-"

Tony laughs maliciously, all his cool demeanor of before boiling away into steam. "Before you finish that, I'm gonna pretend that I'm not about to make you fully blind."

Still reeling from Fury's disbelief, Cap turns to Tony slowly. "Don't make this worse."

"I won't." He winks at Steve, causing the latter to roll his eyes. "You can get the files back, under a couple of conditions." He lists them off on his hand. "One, no 'interrogating' Loki. Two…" Stopping for a moment, he tries to think of something that would both piss off Fury and help Loki. "He stays at the tower-"

"Absolutely not."

"Let me finish. He stays at the tower, as long as there is at least one person there to keep watch. If there isn't, then he comes back here for as long as we are gone. Three, no calling all of us on assignment just so you can get him. And try to contact Thor."

"What's stopping me from calling someone down here to get the files?"

"I'll cut funding. Also taking all the things I have designed for you guys."

"God damn it Stark."

"Hm, I could call Pepper right now and about half of your funds would be gone."

"Fine. When the hell do you want him at the tower?"

* * *

><p>Tapping the arms of the cot he is restrained to bores him to no end, but it's the only thing that blocks out these damned alarms.<p>

Sighing, his chest is a rainy day, damp and heavy and dark. His heart stubbornly keeps beating, though it feels like hooks grip at it, every time it pulses, ripping larger holes in it. The only thing he wishes he could do right now is rip it out, watch it come to rest on this dust ridden floor. Coating it's muscle with dirt, like the cooks used to season meat in the kitchens. Gazing how the blood spattered around it with a hard smack. He wonders briefly if it has holes in it, like he imagines.

It's useless to him.

All his heart does is cause unnecessary pain.

His knuckles go white gripping the ends of the arm rests, before resuming their rhythm.

Tap, tap, tap.

Beating like his bitter and unwanted heart.

He notices vaguely that the flashing lights have stopped along with the annoying blare of the alarms.

Silence.

Except for his tapping.

"Loki Laufeyson?"

The tapping stops, as he is startled. There is no one in the room…

"Loki Laufeyson, you will be retrieved from this station."

Retrieved?

As if he were a tool…

_Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace... through you._

Tap. Tap. Tap.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wanted to make this longer, but I just wasn't feeling it anymore ughhhh. Thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews. ^^<strong>_


	5. Almost

_**Ughhhhhhhhhhh.  
>That is me ignoring my fic that needs to be updated. Super sorry for the wait, this chapter did not flow as well as I'd want. <strong>_

**_I do not own Marvel or any of it's characters._**

* * *

><p>Loki tenses, as a buzzing noise makes itself known before the door handle is moved.<p>

It is apparently time to be _fetched._

Sitting up as straight as he can, he pastes a face of annoyance and boredom over the one of anger and fear.

A man, dressed in black and lightly armed speaks.

"I'm here to take you out of the facility."

"Wonderful."

The man comes over slowly, further making Loki grind his teeth.

He snaps at him. "Will you get on with it? My wrists hurt."

No response. The agent finally makes his way to the right of the bed and takes off the restraint. Relief spurs on through Loki, but before he can rub his wrist with his bound hand to get feeling back into it, his 'escort' snatches his arm, callused fingers causing friction against yet to heal marks.

"Ah!-could you possibly be any rougher?" He knows he is only picking at agitation in this mortal, but pain is not to be shown in front of enemies, no matter how he has to hide it.

Which is why his mind screams insults endlessly when his breath catches. The escort turns his arm over, exposing many nights of failed composure. Blank-faced, he looks at the tube running itself into Loki's flesh.

"Don't. Move."

"As if I could." The trickster is able to draw these words out of his mouth along a steady string. Looking back at him, the man heads towards the door.

He tries to steady his gasping as the mortal leaves. Why hadn't he expected that? His stunted breath barely levels itself before his unwanted company comes back with... bandages. It worries him that he would need them.

Gripping his arm again, the man pinches the base of the tube.

Loki hardly has time to wonder what is going on, before it is pulled out without ceremony.

He screams. Quick and sharp, a papercut on the air around them. Just as fast, the bandage is found wrapping around where it was.

"W-what was in that thing?" Loki doubts that they would let him know if it was poison, but he'll be able to decide from the lie this mortal tells him what it really was.

"Temporary blood replacement."

"What?"

"You lost a significant amount of blood after...what you did."

He wants to snarl, rip this idiot's throat out while he kept him alive with sorcery, all the while laughing and spitting in his face. Instead, he clenches his jaw, tight as wires holding them together. Of course they would want him to live, they can't let such an _amazing _opportunity go to waste.

His other hand is released and he is _oh, _so tempted to fulfill the fantasy he has conjured. It will only make things worse in the long run for him though, so represses those bright burning thoughts.

"While you are moved, you cannot see the facility, so you will be blindfolded."

"What a thoughtful gift. I'll no longer have to look upon your face."

Grunting, the man yanks Loki up, using more force than necessary to tie the blindfold. Handcuffing the silver-tongue, he leads him with a small chain hooked to the right cuff.

Vision gone black, Loki notices that he is only dressed in thin robe, barefoot.

That means that they have seen them all then. All his scars, all his cowardly pain. It makes him feel like there are rivers of slime running down his spine, to know they saw him nude. Choking on another thought, he grasps through his mind as blindly as he currently is, for the hope he hadn't lost enough energy to revert to Jotun form. No doubt _S.H.I.E.L.D _loves to find species it doesn't know fully about and cut them up, dig around quite literally for answers. One shame, Loki denies acknowledgement of.

Some of the Jotuns are intersex, which he buries down inside himself. A bubble of anxiety finds itself in his stomach, and decides it a nice home. Desperate for distraction and some destination, he inquires,

"Where am I being 'relocated?"

"Stark Tower."

A couple of seconds make their way past Loki, before he nearly trips from being yanked forward. He must have stopped out of shock.

Shock that is well founded.

Stark has either lost his mind, or they want to allow him some, some revenge.

Stumbling along, on terror and chains, there's nothing that could convince him that there was anything he had to live for.

* * *

><p>"Look, just try not to say anything stupid when he's here alright?"<p>

"He'll be lucky if I don't strangle him the minute he walks through the door."

Tony drags his hands down his face. "Clint, please don't be a jackass today. If you want, you can leave the tower until he's in his room."

"Nah."

"Why?"

"If he tries anything, I want to be the one to beat his ass."

"Dear fucking god."

Natasha walks in the kitchen from the hallway. "So, Loki's going to be staying here?"

"Yeah, that would be the plan if Clint could not kill him."

Pouring herself coffee, she takes a sip before saying, "Being used isn't very fun. Most people that used me are dead now. Only reason the rest aren't is because I stopped doing what they wanted."

"I know, and Clint, you have a damn good reason to want to kill him. But I did not almost get my ass handed to me in gold plating by Fury just so you could strangle Loki on the first day he is here."

"He tries anything, and he's dead."

"Fine. Jesus christ Nat, how can you drink black coffee?"

Romanoff chuckles before taking a long drink as she walks out.

She wishes she would be the one taking Loki to the tower. No doubt they would send someone with a grudge against him, they'd be lucky if he got here conscious. Sighing, she makes her way to the over extravagant entertainment room. Claiming 'her' chair again, Natasha kicks up in it sideways, her legs swinging over the edge. Reaching for the remote, she clicks the T.V on for ambiance. Far from focusing on it, she knows that being around Loki at all today would be an awful idea. The last thing he needs right now is to remember how she put him in his place, however satisfying it was. That isn't a problem, it's too easy to avoid people for her.

Clint is the issue.

If he didn't restrain himself, Loki would be dead within the hour and S.H.I.E.L.D would be on their backs about wasting such great potential for new research.

There's no way to just tell someone to just get over something like that though. Unless you are an ignorant jerk.

"What are you watching?" Bruce walked into the room, groggy and hair a mess, tapping away notes into his Stark Tablet.

"Horrible reality T.V."

"Hm. Mind if I join you? I have some things to work on."

"Not at all." Drinking from her cup, she closes her eyes, trying to get a handle on the situation. After a few moments, she opens her eyes again."What do you think about Loki coming here?"

His movements stop for a slight moment, before setting the tablet down beside him. "It's not ideal. Better than him staying on the Helicarrier though."

"Yeah. I just have no idea how to keep Clint from slicing his throat the minute he steps in the tower."

"I hate to sound like Tony here but...we'll have to wing it. Hope that he won't."

"Ugh."

"I know."

* * *

><p>Loki remains quiet for the rest of the trip. He wants to save his voice, for who knows how long it would be until it was trashed into nothing.<p>

In short-he is terrified.

His time with the Chitauri is dim and faded, but he knows from his nightmares what happened. Memories sear his mind as hot as the brands they burned him with. Sometimes he thinks he still feels the red metal.

With his vision blocked for the moment, he is utterly vulnerable. For all Loki knows, he might not be even be 'relocating' anywhere. They could be toying with him, to use against him later.

Ice cold shivers drip their way down his back.

"Five minutes till arrival." Loki jumps at the new voice. He hadn't known she was on the transport, which makes him wonder how many others are present.

"Looks like I'll finally get rid of you." His escort sits next to him, and he scoffs.

"I'll miss you dreadfully." He'll definitely miss this, at least knowing he is at the moment, safe.

"God I hate you."

Loki smiles genuinely. "Most people do."


	6. Fall

**_I am so sorry for the long wait. A lot of shit has been messing with my head lately, I couldn't focus on writing this. _**

**_I do not own Marvel or any of it's characters._**

* * *

><p>"10 seconds till arrival. Get ready to get off." The female voice speaks to his escort again.<p>

"Will do."

"Finally." Loki drawls, though his heart is beating so fast he wonders if that is what is causing his shaking.

Fear holds onto his heart like a child holding the hand of their parent, clenched tight and determined not to let go. His stomach climbs it's way to his heart, becoming uncomfortable and shooting up to his throat. It's suffocating him.

"Alright, I can take this off now." Loki tenses as the man reaches back to his head and unties the blindfold. As the fabric falls, he quickly surveys around himself. The aircraft is dark, small, and painfully metallic.

He notices that there is no one else on the metal benches protruding from the walls.

"Where is that woman?"

"Huh?" Gathering the duffel bag he had apparently brought, his escort was distracted.

Sighing, Loki speaks as if to a child. "The woman. Who was speaking. Informing us of how long it would take?"

A small flush bursts on his cheeks as the agent muffles a laugh. "S-she wasn't here. She was on my communicator."

_How did I miss this one? _Loki clenches his teeth, wishing he had spotted this agent the last time he was on Midgard. It would have been nice to crush his throat.

"It has been ten seconds, yes?" He is about to kill this idiot, who is still chuckling to himself.

"Yeah. Let's go. Want to bring her too?"

You would think that he had lost his mind the way he laughs. Instead of risking further punishments that the ones he is already condemned to, he resigns with rubbing his hands raw, clenching his jaw so tight it's a wonder his teeth don't crack.

The hull opens, the blinding sun washing over him and making him sick.

Once he adjusts to the light, chained hands lower from his face, his shaking becoming worse. This is where he stabbed Thor. Where he landed in a crater made by a green monster. The place he had been utterly defeated.

They are brilliant, he will give these mortals as much. Not only beat him within seconds from dying, but where he was most humiliated.

_Oh, how clever. _Loki tells himself this as he is pulled forward. For a brief moment, he wonders if he moves fast enough, if he can jump off the roof.

* * *

><p>"Alright guys, this is it. Please don't cause any death, and it'll be very appreciated." Tony beams at the rest of the team, but they are all watching behind him. Smile falling, he turns around.<p>

Someone leads Loki by a chain connected to cuffs.

Loki looks sick.

Physically as well as mentally. Not to mention the state he is in, only a thin hospital gown for cover. He stumbles behind the man leading him, like a dog.

Loki seems confused for a moment before making eye contact through the window. His eyes flit from each of their faces, not lingering for too long-before coming to the archer's. The stare he gives is hollow, and deadened.

Clint starts stuttering. "Ah-dear g-god," his breath is being stolen from him, "I can't be out-t here right n-now."

Natasha immediately makes her way to Clint's side. "Clint. I need you to breathe okay? Leave if you need to."

Hands on his knees, he looks straight at her. "No! I'm letting him win if I leave!"

"Clint. Do what you want, but you need to breathe."

Clint tries to tie his thought back into his brain. Everything is off, nothing is right. Loki is supposed to be gone, he's supposed to be okay.

"Nat I-"

"Go."

He doesn't want to, he wants to smugly smile in Loki's face as he walks in. To show him that he didn't ruin him, didn't even phase him. That Loki is the weak one.

Now he knows, that one of those proves to be a lie, the other proved as a truth.

Clint's mind is ruined, and Loki is weak. At least, now he is.

The feeling in his gut, the one seeking retribution, rises. Settling his breathing, he slowly stands straight.

"I'm fine."

Of course, no one believes him. They don't comment on it.

Loki isn't even looking in their direction anymore. Dangerously staring at the edge of the roof instead.

* * *

><p>He considers it, mulls it over in his mind. It wouldn't be hard. This damned agent is so distracted right now that it would be all too easy.<p>

How far up was the top of the tower?

The fall would at least bring him close to death. Any closer than right now would be wonderful. On more fall couldn't hurt.

Instead, his jaw creaks from clenching it together as he again is led like a dog towards the tower. There's no escape now.

His blood boils with anger as his incompetence, and fear, of what is to come.

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><p><strong><em>holy shit i can not write the rest of this chapter <em>**

**_next will update sooner, super sorry D:_**


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